Christmas Stalkings Read Online Free Page A

then, Miss Sissler,” said Peter, “what would you like? Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?”
    “S-strychnine, please.”
    “Come now, it’s not that bad. Two coffees, please, and a couple of muffins. Just plain ones, not your holiday specials.” Peter didn’t feel up to snippets of red and green candied cherries this morning.
    Neither of them said anything more until after the waiter had brought their coffee and corn muffins and gone back to whatever culinary beguilements awaited him in the kitchen. Peter waited until the lachrymose freshman had creamed and sugared her coffee and taken a timid sip.
    “Now then, Miss Sissler, would you care to explain?”
    She shook her head frantically. Tears welled again in the big round eyes. “I can’t, Professor Shandy. Truly I can’t.”
    “Young woman, are you by any chance trying to be a heroine? Here, have a muffin and tell me whom you’re covering up for. Is it your boyfriend?”
    “No!”
    “Is somebody blackmailing you into trying to wreck the Illumination?”
    “No.”
    “Then can you tell me why in Sam Hill you pulled such a stupid stunt? Did you think it was marijuana you were putting in those infernal objects?” Y-yes.
    “Where did it come from?”
    “I f-found it.”
    “Where?”
    “Hanging up.”
    “Hanging up where?”
    “In the k-kitchen.”
    “Whose kitchen? Not the college’s?”
    “Of course not! Mrs. Mouzouka wouldn’t—”
    “No, I don’t suppose she would. Come on, Miss Sissler, let’s get this over with. I have exams to correct. And you have a fresh batch of cowpats to bake, strictly according to the standard recipe, disgusting though it may be. The college is counting on you, drat it. Where do you do your cooking? You don’t live in the dorms, do you? Where are your people?”
    “In F- florida . I’m staying with my great-aunt, here in Balaclava Junction.”
    “She being—?”
    “Miss Viola Harp. You know her. She calligraphs the college diplomas.”
    “Does she indeed? I’m afraid I can’t quite place her.”
    “Nobody can! Nobody cares. That’s why she—”
    Miss Sissler essayed another sip of her coffee, and choked on it As Peter watched her coughing into her napkin, a great light dawned. He took the three bogus twenties out of his wallet and spread them on the table.
    “That’s why she got sore enough at the college to do this?”
    Yet once more, Miss Sissler fell to sobbing.
    “All right, Miss Sissler. Would you kindly explain why your aunt’s venture into counterfeiting inspired you to perpetrate an even more harebrained machination? What did she do it for, anyway? Is she desperately hard up?”
    “She has enough to get by on. Just about. But that’s not why. She did it because nobody pays any attention to her. Nobody ever has. She’s been calligraphing the college diplomas for twenty-seven years, and not once, not one single time, has anybody ever come up to her and told her what a lovely job she did. She drew that little picture of the administration building for the college stationery, and nobody even said how nice it was. And it is nice! It’s just lovely! And I think you’re a bunch of old pigs and I don’t blame her one bit, and it serves you right. And I was on the booth last night when she came up, and I stood right there when Kathy took the money from her and didn’t notice it wasn’t real, and I didn’t say one word. And I’d do it again! Again, do you hear me!”
    “I hear you, Miss Sissler. Is Miss Harp planning an again?”
    “S-she said she’d go on till somebody noticed, no matter what. Aunt Viola’s determined to get some recognition for her work, even if she has to go to jail for it And I don’t blame her! I’ll go with her. Go ahead, Professor Shandy, arrest me!”
    “Sorry, Miss Sissler, I’ve already explained that I’m not a campus cop. To repeat my question, what made you decide on the catnip cowpats? And what made you think your aunt would have marijuana in the house? Does she